


Flanders & Swann Have A Lot To Answer For

by Small_Hobbit



Series: Twelve Days of Christmas [8]
Category: Lewis (TV), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 04:50:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg and Sherlock meet Robbie Lewis and James Hathaway for a drink (or two)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flanders & Swann Have A Lot To Answer For

**Author's Note:**

  * For [grassle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grassle/gifts).



> Follows on from Day Trip to Oxford

True to his word, DI Lewis texted Greg Lestrade the name of the pub they were heading for.  Greg took his phone out, intending to find where it was, but when he looked up, having typed in the details, he discovered Sherlock was already striding away from him.

“You might have told me you knew where we were going.”

“I’m surprised you thought I wouldn’t know.”

It didn’t take long for them to reach the pub.  They walked in and Hathaway waved to them from across the room.  As they walked over to join them, Lewis stood up.

“Right, what are you having?  And do you want me to order you any food?  I can recommend the pies.”

“If you’re planning on eating, then I’ll join you,” Greg said.  “Sherlock, do you want anything?”

“Just a packet of crisps.”

“And no doubt you’ll eat half my chips as well.”

“Hmm.”

They chatted generally as they waited for their food, discussing past cases, difficult colleagues, and times when the river had paid a rather too prominent part in their activities.  Once they were eating, Sherlock started to dominate the conversation; both Lewis and Greg were such old hands that they gave full attention to their food just in case they received a call-out part way through, and Hathaway seemed fascinated by Sherlock’s tales.

Shortly after they had finished eating, they were joined by another DI from the Oxford constabulary who was trying to drum up some more support for an impromptu CID versus uniform darts match.  Lewis was interested, but since Hathaway was not keen, it was agreed that Greg could be co-opted instead.

The game lasted just over an hour and resulted in a narrow victory for CID.  There was some muttering from the uniform team about bringing in outside players, but that was squashed by Lewis pointing out that this could only be an advantage if they admitted that the Met were better than they were.

“Have you got time for another round before you head back?” Lewis asked as they walked back to join Sherlock and Hathaway.

“Yes, but I’ll buy this one.”

They carried the drinks back to the table to find that Hathaway had moved and was now sitting next to Sherlock. 

“I presume you two have been putting the world to rights in our absence,” Lewis said.

Hathaway grinned, “Me and my new best friend have talked of many things.”

“What sort of things?” Greg looked suspiciously at Sherlock, who shrugged his shoulders.

“Shoes and ships and sealing wax,” Hathaway continued.  “Cabbages and kings.”

“How much have you drunk?” Lewis asked.

“Just two whiskies.”

“Of his own,” Sherlock added.  “But he drank mine as well.”

“Brilliant,” Lewis sighed.  “I’d better get you home.”

“I’m not leaving my best friend,” Hathaway said, throwing his arms round Sherlock’s neck.  “He knows why the sea is boiling hot.”

“And whether pigs have wings,” muttered Greg.

“Ziggactly,” Hathaway said, detaching one arm from Sherlock and embracing Greg instead.

“Come on,” said Greg.  “Let’s get you outside.”

The cold air failed to sober Hathaway up as much as they had hoped.  They tried to get him to lean on Lewis instead, but failed, because Hathaway maintained that Lewis was a crosspatch who would tell him off.

“How far have you got to go?” Greg asked.

“It’s about a five minute walk,” Lewis replied.  “At least it is when you walk in a straight line.”

“Your place or his?”

“We live together.  And before you say anything, it’s complicated.”

“Complicated I understand perfectly.  You’ve met Sherlock.”

Lewis grinned.  “Nice to know I’m not alone.”

Hathaway started to sing.

“Can we walk him home for you?” Greg asked.

“Would you mind?”

Lewis led the way and Greg and Sherlock followed with Hathaway between them.  By this time Hathaway had started to sing Flanders and Swann’s _Transport of Delight_.  Sherlock joined in.

“London Transport diesel engine 97 horse power omnibus.”

Greg thought it a very long five minute walk.

On arriving, Lewis unlocked the door and the three of them staggered in.

“I can cope with him now,” Lewis said.  “Unless you want to stop for a coffee.”

“We ought to make our way back to the railway station, thank you.”

“No, no; one more song,” Hathaway pleaded.  “’Twas on the Monday morning that the gasman came to call....”

“Another time, maybe,” Greg said, pushing Sherlock back out before he could encourage him.  Turning to Lewis, he added, “Text me when you know when you’ve got a free weekend and we’ll arrange to meet up in the new year.”

As Lewis shut the door behind them they heard Hathaway start to sing “A bold hippopotamus was standing one day….”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> For those who haven't come across Flanders & Swann, Youtube has many excellent examples.
> 
> "Hold very tight, please."


End file.
